In both lands (a Captain Swan ficlet)
by GoingVintage
Summary: He's a man torn between two lands - one of dreams and one of reality.


NOTE: Gifted to the wonderful Aims (aisforaims/swashbucklerswan), who got me into this show and ship in the first place. And, just a warning, I'm kinda rusty on this whole fanfiction thing... Also, please note that I'm only on episode 13 of season 2, but I'm already shipping Captain Swan so hard it hurts, so this short ficlet is all based upon conjecture of the upcoming episode.

* * *

Hook has dreamed of Milah for decades. During the day, if he closes his eyes, he's forced to remember, over and over again, the feeling of her life ebbing away as she lay in his arms. At night, though, he enters the land of dreams and sees her as she was – beautiful, vivacious, and in love with him.

The dreams intensify once he's on the island. She comes to him in flowing robes, her dark hair cascading down her back in curls. He remembers making love to her once, not long after they'd met but before he'd taken her away from the kingdom for the first time. Her body had shimmered in the firelight of the camp, and if he hadn't known better, he'd swear that she'd been sprinkled with the dust of the fairies. Dewey skin. Taut, peaked, dusky nipples. Soft hips that flared out, made for the contours of his hands. Her body had moved over his, with his, until they were both overwhelmed, satisfaction crashing over them with the intensity of a storm-fueled swell. He wakes up, his body hard and aching, and the first person he sets his eyes upon is Emma. His rapid heartbeat, which had faded away as the dream slipped back into the recesses of his mind, picks right back up again.

The longer Hook's on the island, the more intense the dreams become. Their entire relationship replays inside his head at night, and in almost every dream, he hears her voice. "Killian," she keens, "I love you so much." * Long, fitful nights give way to tense days. They spend hours looking, plotting, searching. It's amazing to him to discover what he's willing to do just to find one lost boy on an island of many. But it's Emma's boy, which somehow makes him do things he wouldn't normally do. He's aware of her, even when she's not within his line of sight. He smells her scent on the wind, and it's not a scent he can place, so he assumes it must be something unique to her world. He's been mixed up with many a lass in his long life, but that one, with her tough-as-enchanted-wood exterior, spicy tongue, and haunted gaze, continues to be a riddle to which he has no answer.

The ninth night on the island, after a spot of rum and another verbal spar with David, he falls into a fitful sleep. As soon as he enters the land of dreams, Milah is there. It starts normal enough, with him tugging the belt of her sash off and parting the silk that clings to her curves, but then she opens her eyes and whispers, "It's okay to let me go, Killian." He jolts awake after that, confused and wondering where such a thing came from, and spends the rest of the night pacing.

He expects a kiss from a beautiful woman to stir him because they always do. But an hour after Emma crashes her mouth to his and sends such need through him that he _swears to the gods_ that he can feel it in his hook, he's still off kilter. Like a combination of fire and ice, the tender skin of his mouth tingles, feeling branded. By her.

He avoids her as they eat that night, unwilling to engage her in their normal banter. He feels her eyes on him time and time again as they sit 'round the fire, but he's unwilling to look back. One might call him a coward. Of course, if one did, one would end up with a dagger in the throat, but that's neither here nor there. He's not sure what he'll see if he gives way to temptation and looks upon her, so he keeps his head down and his eyes on that which is safe.

Later, after the fire has been doused and everyone has retired, he drinks from his flask and readies himself for another encounter with Milah in the land of dreams. This time, he's pushing open the door to his berth. She's standing in front of the fire, her back to him, a silken cape covering her from head to toe. When he places a hand upon her shoulder, she slides the hood of her cape down. Flaxen hair, as brilliant as that bastard Rumple's gold, shimmers in the firelight. The face that greets him as she turns is one that he's spent these last few months memorizing. When she whispers his name, "Hook", the voice he hears isn't the voice of the woman he loved then, but of the woman he loves now. He realizes then that everything is changing, both in this land and in the one he'll encounter as soon as he wakes up.

"Emma, lass," he whispers as he moves his the back of his fingers along her cheek, "so glad you've come to me at last."


End file.
